


Just the Bump and Grind (Show a Little More, Show a little less)

by TT40_Angst_Queen



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:17:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11058807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TT40_Angst_Queen/pseuds/TT40_Angst_Queen
Summary: What would happen if it was RYAN that didn't make it on Whose Line, but Colin did? What would Ryan end up having to do to live?A gift for Sirius.





	Just the Bump and Grind (Show a Little More, Show a little less)

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a Kudos and Comment!

Hair in perfect puffed short blond curls, lashes curled and long, eyeliner around bright green eyes, concealer lightly placed over dark circles underneath those eyes, and clear, barely there gloss for just the right amount of shine. A skimpy leather outfit, and a daddy cap.

 

Ryan Stiles sighed as he finished putting on the cap, his own, tired face staring at him in the mirror of his dressing room. The leather shorts he wore barely covered his ass, and underneath was a leather thong that covered even less. The only clothing on his upper body was a black leather tie, and the daddy cap he wore.

 

He examined himself in the mirror, his thoughts dim.

 

“You chose this, Ryan,” he spoke to himself in the mirror and had to swallow down tears. “You wanted to prove everyone wrong.” Ryan shook his head, sniffing. “I only proved them right…” Ryan's choice twenty years ago to quit school for comedy was something, that at the time, he was sure would pay off. His parents were disappointed but supportive.

 

At the moment, they thought he was working at comedy clubs in LA, while they lived in their house in Abbotsford BC, Canada.

 

In reality, he was working at _strip_ clubs, well one of them, in LA. He got paid enough to feed him and pay his rent and to buy clothes he really only wore when he was in his own home or shopping for food. He didn't wear much at work. His job required it.

 

He was a Stripper, and on the side, because his boss threatened to fire him, he 'relieved’ high profile (Rich Celebrities) people of their tension.

 

He hated it.

 

“Stiles! You're on, get your tight ass out there!” Ryan sighed.

 

But it was a living.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan wiped himself down after an hour of dancing his ass off sensually about a stage. No matter how many times he washed, he could never get the feeling of lustful eyes roving over his almost naked body, their eyes roaming over his lightly muscled form, devouring him with their eyes.

 

“Stiles.” Ryan stiffened. He knew that tone in Mr. Winter's voice.

 

He had a customer.

 

“Two this time, separate groups. One’s James Conner again, the other is a friend of one of a really rich guy, Carey or something, apparently, they're celebrating a transferring a show over or somethin’. Better not screw it up, or that eye you coverin’ with that makeup is gonna be the least of your problems, Stiles.” Stiles shivered. He apparently forgot about the bruises on his hips he had to cover with makeup.

 

“Yes sir,” Ryan said dully and went to change.

 

“Don't bother, James likes you like that, and Carey wants his friend to get the best show he can,” Winter's leered, and Ryan internally cringed.

 

“Backroom, now.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

 

 

“Oh--oh man, yes-- take it, slut--fuck--” Ryan sucked hard on the length in his mouth, a carefully constructed mask of lust on his face, staring through his lashes just like he knew James liked. He bobbed his head up and down, using tongue and hints of teeth, rolling the furred balls in his hand.

 

“Take it-- yeah--uh--uh-- _Fuck_!” James exploded down Ryan's throat, and Ryan gulped down the sour seed.

 

James, a rising star in Hollywood, looked at Ryan with a sneer, his beady eyes sparkling. He patted Ryan on the head, condescendingly.

 

“That's right, swallow it all. Good whore. Just a mouth, to stick a cock in those pretty lips…”

 

Ryan's bit his lip, his head lowered, his eyes stinging.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Good boy. I'll be back soon.”

 

And he left the room, buckling up his pants, leaving Ryan kneeling on the bed. As he heard the door click shut, he finally let the tears fall from his eyes and let out a harsh sob.

 

 _God, why did he keep doing this_? He knew that if his parents knew what he was doing to stay housed and fed, they would be horrified. Deep down, he knew that they would help him in an instant to get out of this hell he was in, but the logic was overshadowed by heaps of fear and shame over how low he had fallen. He logically knew that what his boss was making him do was basically rape, but he was too afraid to tell anyone. He didn't want his parents to know, his fear of them seeing him as nothing but a dirty slut, a whore, making any logic go the way of the Dodo.

 

His sobs slowly tapered off, and he got up and went to the bathroom, splashing water on his face. There, now he didn't look like he had been crying. He didn't think his new client would appreciate it.

 

He heard the door slowly open, and a timid 'hello?’ that sounded very familiar to his ears.

 

He slunk out of the bathroom, trying to look as sexy as he could before he froze.

 

_No, it can't be-_

 

“Ryan?”

 

“Colin?”

* * *

 

 

It had taken Ryan a bit to get over the shock of seeing his old friend who he hadn't seen in years in his “playroom”.

 

“So,” Colin began awkwardly,

 

“This is what you do now?” Ryan looked away, he could hear the sadness in his friend's voice. He always hated it when he was sad.

 

“Yeah,” Ryan whispered, numb.

 

“Why?” Colin asked gently, his hand moving, clearly trying to find a piece of skin that wasn't exposed, but not finding any. He eventually rested it on Ryan's thigh, making him internally shiver. He always had a crush on his friend. It had bloomed to love, right before--

 

“Because not all of us had our big break with that improv show, Col. I had to pay the rent somehow.”  Ryan sniffed. “I guess all those years of doing stand up at strip clubs were good for somethin’. Learned enough to do this.”

 

Colin sighed. “Ry, you could have auditioned again, you missed your flight because you got sick with pneumonia. I'm sure Dan--” Ryan shook his head, and laughed brokenly.

 

“I did ask. He said no.” Colin growled.

 

“But- that bastard said you didn't return his calls, he said you left a message saying you changed your mind!” Ryan choked on a sob.

 

“He lied.” Colin shook his head.

 

“God, I can't believe--and there's no way that you _want_ to do this, to dance and-and prostitute yourself for rich people, God Ry, is he, whose making you do this?” Ryan looked away, his eyes wet once again.

 

“I do the dancing willingly.” Colin captured his chin, turning his head around and making him look into his soft hazel eyes.

 

“And the sex?” Ryan's breath hitched, and he shook his head silently, tears rolling down his cheeks. Colin gasped.

 

“Oh, Ry… come here…” Colin took Ryan into his arms, and held him, ignoring the wetness from Ryan's tears soaking his shoulder.

 

“I want you to meet someone, his name's Drew Carey, and he's got this sitcom he wants to start…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ryan, ‘anything for a laugh’ Stiles everyone,” Drew chuckled, and Ryan nodded.

 

“That's right, that how I got the other show,” Ryan laughed. Drew nodded, and Colin, Ryan, and Drew shared a secret look.

 

“That's right,” Drew leered, and everyone laughed.

 

Yeah, he did a lot trying to get a laugh in his life. _And finally, it paid off_ , he thought, looking at the matching rings on husband Col’s rings fingers. _There's a lot for me to work through still, but we can do it._

 

Ryan smiled at his husband, and Colin smiled back, love in his eyes.

 

“Love you.” Ryan grinned.

 

“Love you too.”

 

_Together._

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a Kudos and Comment!


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